


my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm

by imfallingforyoureyes102



Series: To Build a Home [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Fluff, Happy, Married Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Oneshot, Parent Felicity Smoak, Parent Oliver Queen, Pregnant Felicity Smoak, Soft Oliver Queen, domestic olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imfallingforyoureyes102/pseuds/imfallingforyoureyes102
Summary: Felicity can never surprise Oliver. Not really. He’s too ninja-y and she's toonotfor that. Doesn’t mean she’ll ever stop trying.“Three,” Felicity whispers, her eyes bright and heart beating far too fast to be safe. “Two, one - ,”“Wait,what!?”Oliver shoots up into a sitting position, the blanket pooling around his waist.(Or, Oliver and Felicity are in bed and Oliver is out like a light. It’s Felicity that keeps prodding him awake, asking him ridiculous questions about their future, and Oliver sleepily plays along - until one question catches him completely off guard).
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: To Build a Home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752055
Comments: 53
Kudos: 499





	my arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, hope you enjoy! Let's forget all the bad that has happened to our favorite couple and make up scenarios instead!

Felicity huffs, shifting noisily under the covers as she tries to find a comfortable position. She freezes instantly when she accidentally kicks Oliver’s hip, but her shock quickly wears to amusement when all Oliver does is turn his face towards her, a long sigh falling from his lips.

She stares at him for a few seconds, admiring the way all the stress and brooding and the constant _Mr. Grr_ expressions seem to melt from his face the second he falls asleep. Instead, she takes in the way his eyebrows _aren’t_ drawn together tightly in worry, how his lips are full and void of any frown or grimace. She admires how young he looks, how _handsome_ he is, how, ever since they had gotten married in the back of a van, seconds after Oliver had almost bled out in Felicity’s lap and Oliver had come to and demanded that Diggle pull over and marry them before driving to the hospital – his face had been graced with more smiles and laughter than Felicity had ever seen from one Oliver Queen.

Felicity reaches forward, lightly trailing her finger along the side of Oliver’s face. She bites her lip, stifling a small smile as Oliver lets out another content sigh, still so far lost in the pull of sleep that Felicity’s heart _aches_ with how comfortable he has become with her presence.

It’s only when she traces the ridge of his nose that he starts to wake a little, and when she brushes her thumb over his lips, she’s met with slight pressure and sleepy eyes as he presses a small kiss to her fingers.

She flashes him an innocent smile, and he mirrors her, the corners of his lips sleepily lifting ever so slightly before he shuffles closer towards her, pulling her into the crook of his arm as his eyes fall shut.

He’s asleep again in seconds, his breathing deep and slow as Felicity follows the rise and fall of his bare chest. She listens to his heartbeat for a little, reveling in the warmth of his body flush against hers, but while the steady _thump thump thump_ of his heart is normally enough to lull her to sleep, it only pushes her further awake.

She shifts slightly out of Oliver’s grip, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling.

And, while Oliver is a thousand times able to fall asleep in Felicity’s presence, it’s her absence that pulls him from the depths of sleep.

He’s only half awake though – even less awake after his roaming hand finds Felicity’s hip – but then Felicity’s talking in the way she normally does when either he or her can’t sleep, and the way Oliver curls further towards Felicity lets her know that he’s listening.

“Do you think our baby will be smart?”

She watches the fan spin on the ceiling, round and round and round, so fast the blades look like one continuous circle.

Oliver moves slightly, letting out an irritated breath as his hand searches over the empty space between him and Felicity. He finds her almost instantly and tries to pull her into him, but Felicity resists, asking the question again.

“’Course she will,” Oliver mumbles sleepily, rolling over onto his side unconsciously grabbing her towards him. “She’ll have your brains.” He mumbles into her hair.

Felicity lets out a quiet laugh as Oliver all but wraps his entire body around her and buries his face into her neck.

She waits a little for him to settle before pulling away again and turning to face him.

It’s Oliver’s annoyed huff that cements the smile on Felicity’s face. He rolls onto his back, his hand once again rooting around for _anything_ Felicity, and she leans towards him and presses a kiss on his shoulder before hugging his arm to her chest. It's enough settle Oliver, at least for the moment, and he burrows further into the blankets with Felicity's warmth wrapped around his arm.

“Who do you think she will look like? Or he?” Felicity ponders softly, her nose brushing against his triceps.

“Hopefully, you,” Oliver murmurs without missing a beat, far too used to the midnight conversations he’d have with Felicity ever since they had crossed over from friends to something more. His voice is low and groggy and so so _so_ content and Felicity doesn’t miss the way his fingers curl around hers absentmindedly.

She brings her eyes up to Oliver’s sleeping face, watching him as she speaks, admiring the sharpness of his jaw and how his eyelashes dance across his cheek.

“But what if she doesn’t like me,” she whispers earnestly against his skin.

Oliver hums quietly, his eyes still closed as he turns his face towards hers.

“The baby’ll be half me,” he mumbles softly. “There’s no possible way that any part of me would not love you.”

Oliver’s lips brush her forehead before he dozes off again, and Felicity’s hit by so much love and adoration for the man next to her that she can’t do anything but press her face firmly against Oliver’s shoulder, her lips grazing against his skin. 

“Do you want a girl or boy?” she asks next as she pulls away, a small smile dancing across her lips as Oliver’s eyebrows furrow. The confusion quickly dissipates as Felicity trails her fingers up and down his arm.

“Healthy,” he murmurs, and Felicity knows exactly what he means. “But a girl.” He says so gently it hurts, “A small you.”

Oliver’s voice trails off into a long breath and he nuzzles his nose against her forehead before falling back into slumber.

Felicity pulls herself away from Oliver and props herself up on her elbow, watching his sleeping form with a knowing smile.

“Three,” Felicity whispers, her eyes bright and heart beating far too fast to be safe. “Two, one - ,” 

“Wait, _what!?”_

Oliver shoots up into a sitting position, the blanket crumpling at his waist. His eyes are wide and frantic as he glances around the dark room before turning to face Felicity and the grin that he finds on her face is innocent and casual and - ,”

“What?” she asks sweetly.

“What do you mean _what_?” Oliver questions insistently, his voice void of any sleep. “What do you mean what will the _baby_ look like? You mean hypothetically, right? You mean - ,”

But then he’s glancing down to where Felicity’s hand is thumbing at his shirt that she’s wearing, right next to her belly, and she’s sitting up slowly with a shy smile and suddenly Oliver is wide awake – more awake than he’s ever been in his life – and suddenly he has the biggest and dopiest grin on his face and it’s the most _breathtaking_ thing Felicity thinks she’s ever seen.

He lets out a small laugh, and then more laughter follows it as he dives towards her, scooping her up into his arms and rolling them over so that he’s covering her completely.

Felicity doesn’t miss the way he’s careful not to put his full weight on her – doesn’t miss the way he _giggles_ as he peppers kisses all over every inch of her face before burying his own against her neck.

“A baby?”

Oliver’s voice is muffled against her skin, but the way it comes out so delicately, almost as if he could destroy the reality if he wasn’t gently enough, has Felicity banding her arms around his broad back tightly and stroking her fingers through his hair.

“Yeah,” she breathes shakily, tears in her eyes as Oliver shudders against her. “A baby.”

Oliver makes a sound that’s a mix between a whimper and laughter and suddenly he’s pulling away and his face is wet and flushed and _euphoric_. Felicity already has her hands caressing his cheeks, her thumb swiping away at the tears that fall from his eyes.

Her heart skips a beat as he gazes at her – as he takes in every inch of her face, every freckle and eyelash and dimple – and something in her chest cracks when Oliver lets something close to a sob before he takes a shuddering breath.

He pulls his lips together, his own hands framing Felicity’s face, before leaning in and pressing a searing kiss to her lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs against her. “I love you, I love you, _I love you_.”

Oliver loses his breath, so overcome with emotion and the understanding that _he had made it_ – that he had made it past the island and the torture and the pain and sorrow and suffering to _this._ That he had made it to the future he had so desperately craved but never believed he could have.

He pulls Felicity to him desperately, her head just under his chin, and buries his face into her hair. They’re tangled together so tightly that Felicity can’t tell where she ends and he begins, but she can feel the thrum of his heart – can feel the stabling breaths he takes – and nothing feels more _right_ than this moment _._

She has her own tears as she takes in Oliver’s reaction. She’s never seen him this happy – this giddy and giggly and gorgeous – and when he pulls away enough to smooth away the hair on her face, she knows that she’d do _anything_ to keep it this way.

Oliver shifts so that he’s propped up next to her, his eyes running down the length of her body and halting at her belly.

His expression goes from ecstatic to hesitant in a second, and before any of the self-doubt can creep in, Felicity is intertwining her fingers with his and bringing their joined hands to her stomach.

Oliver’s breath catches as he watches his hand span the entirety of Felicity’s stomach, shocked at the way it completely covers their unborn child. Felicity’s hand rests on top of his, so small and delicate and like porcelain next to his own rough skin and he takes a steadying breath when he realizes that his hand is sandwiched between the loves of his life – that he is protected and cherished and loved all around. 

He stares at their intertwined hands – at Felicity’s still toned belly – and Felicity watches as thousands of emotions dance across Oliver’s face.

His heart is caught in his throat, and while he wants to say a million things, he can only do one.

He shifts down the length of the bed so that he’s eye level with Felicity’s stomach, his body covering her legs and his arms bracketing both sides of her body in a way that screams protectiveness. He looks up at Felicity, a smile so innocent and pure on his lips that Felicity has to press a hand to her mouth to stifle her tears.

Oliver gently places his hand against her stomach again, his thumb dragging along the small slip of exposed skin before slowly pulling up the fabric of her shirt.

He leans in _so_ carefully, nuzzling his nose against her stomach, any semblance of fatigue and grogginess gone. His eyes snap shut, emotion flooding his body as if a dam had burst and Felicity reaches down to brush back some of the hair from Oliver’s eyes.

Oliver presses a feather light kiss to Felicity’s stomach, just beneath her bellybutton, his lips warms and firm against Felicity's skin.

“Hi there,” he breathes quietly, his voice full of awe and wonder and light and _love_. A watery laugh escapes his lips, and he brushes the tip of his nose against Felicity’s stomach tenderly. “Hi there, baby. I’m your Dad.”

It’s only a whisper – only eight words that Oliver manages to get out before his throat is too tight and his heartbeat too fast.

But it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Reviews give me life - they are my nourishment!!! Love you all!


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